Once a week I walk over to King Soopers to pick up a bouquet of lilies which, are, in my opinion, the best flowers because they 1) last a long time, 2) come with some buds already opened and others waiting for their turn, and 3) have a lovely pungent gingery odor.
This morning, I thought Monkey might like a ride to get some flowers and then we could swing by the bakery and pick up a coffee cake for Sunday breakfast.
Monkey was quite excited by the prospect of this walk/ride. I grabbed the buggy, a leash, some poop bags, a debit card and one dog. Her business was completed within a few steps, so I popped her into the buggy which makes my life easy because, as you know, she sniffs and sniffs and sniffs and sniffs and then looks, then sniffs, then looks . . . . .
We walked south, crossed the street and noticed a woman with her Great Dane and Pitbull in the little pocket park. The woman was picking up poop. The Dane was on leash. The Pitty was off-leash pooping and then, overwhelmed with happiness about his success, began some zoomies. He had a great, big smile on his face and as he zoomed between my legs and the buggy, came to an abrupt stop. He needed some pets which I happily provided. I gave him extras because taken by his musculature. He looked at Monkey who by this time was in shaking mode at the thought of having to deal with MORE dogs. The woman thought Monkey was chilly. “No,” I said. “She hates dogs. Especially big ones.” I went into my oration about how Monkey outlived four Newfoundlands, her sister/mother/daughter or whatever, one Conure, and a bunch of chickens. The Pitty must have figured out that Monkey was uninterested in a friendship and took off towards his owner and the Dane.
The Pitty sat. Tongue hanging out. Ready for more action. I looked at the Pitty and hollered in cheerleading voice, “Zoomies!” Once again, he charged around, smiling, ears flapping. The Dane wanted to play as well. But I could only imagine the Pitty taking the Dane down and causing no end of orthopedic and ligamental disasters.
At this point, we were exactly one-half block from home. Time to continue towards the flower purchase.
I crossed the street and began walking west. As we passed Founder’s Green, there was a family of a dad, two kids, and one hapless Golden Retriever. The kids and dog were chasing each other in circles. I think the boys and dog were retrieving one ball. Dad was picking up poop. Hard to tell. None were on leashes.
I mention off-leash activities because I want you to know I am PRO. I hate leashes because, well, I just do. Dogs are happier without. They behave better. They socialize with each other better. Leashes communicate between the owner and dog and what do they say? Anxieties! Don’t sniff that! Don’t wag your tail! Don’t get excited that you saw another dog or a person willing to pet you.
Leashes suck.
At any rate, I saw four happy dogs today. Two off leash. One watching and one (my own) on a buggy ride.
I crossed another street and went past a popular restaurant that only serves breakfast and lunch. It has great food but it’s damn noisy. I really wish restaurants would become quieter so people can talk without screeching. Maybe I’m just old. People were standing outside waiting to get in. One little girl spoke up and asked if she could pet the little dog.
Of course.
She petted Monkey. Monkey moved to the back of the carriage. She wanted nothing to do with the nice little girl. I then thanked little girl for petting my dog and off we went.
We bought our flowers and walked over to the bakery. But before we got there, we were semi-blocked by a homeless guy in a sit-down walker. He was concerned that 1) there wasn’t room for us to get by and 2) hadn’t he seen that dog around here before?
There was room. No he hadn’t seen the dog.
“She’s 17”, I said.
“Wow. You love her,” he said.
I do.
Air. 
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